


always coming back home to you

by softambrollins



Series: our own private universe [3]
Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Doubt, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 13:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softambrollins/pseuds/softambrollins
Summary: Dean's the home he never knew he needed that he keeps coming back to over and over again. And it always feels brand new.





	always coming back home to you

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Smackdown 11/10/2019.

Dean's waiting for him on the front porch when he gets to his house on Friday night.

He doesn't say anything, just takes his bags from him and leads him inside before quietly shutting the door behind them. Seth just follows him unthinkingly, gaze dropping to the floor, and then slowly turns around to meet his eyes properly for the first time.

It feels — almost kind of awkward. Which is strange for them. They're usually eerily comfortable with each other, they can practically read each other's minds, they know each other better than they know themselves. And the last few months have been great, even while working out the kinks and complications of not seeing each other every day. But this week's been...different, to say the least. And the last time they really spoke was Sunday night after everything had happened and Seth was a complete mess and all he remembers now is crying down the phone and feeling so disgusted and ashamed of himself and Dean trying to tell him that he wasn't actually the worst person on earth. And he didn't believe any of it. Being alone and trapped in his own head over the past five days has only made it worse.

The last week has felt like a thousand years. He didn't think he would make it through most of the time, but this, right here — the thought of this is what's been sustaining him. It's the only thing that's kept him pushing forward, that's kept him from unravelling completely. That got him out of bed, that made him pick himself off the bathroom floor, dry his eyes, and go outside to face the harsh light of reality again. To face himself and everything he's done and the judgment of the entire world.

He just stares at Dean silently for what feels like a long time. Soaking him in. Like just the sight of him in front of him is all he needs. All he's been wanting so, so desperately since the last time he saw him.

Dean's expression encompasses a myriad of things — it's concerned, unsure, but reassuring, comforting at the same time. Familiar, grounding, _safe_. He looks like he wants to say something or like he wants to reach out and touch him, but he's waiting for Seth, like he doesn't know what he needs from him yet.

Finally, he asks a first, tentative question.

"You okay?" he says, voice soft but weighty at the same time.

And he can't answer that. He has no idea how to begin without just breaking down into a million pieces. He doesn't know if he'd be able to put himself back together, even with Dean here.

So he just takes a step forward and throws himself into Dean's arms instead. Dean stumbles backwards a little from the impact but he responds almost immediately, wrapping his arms around him snugly, fitting their bodies together like they're matching puzzle pieces. He's warm and gentle and firm and it's always surprising how _right_ it feels. Dean's the home he never knew he needed that he keeps coming back to over and over again. And it always feels brand new. Seth feels like he can breathe out for the first time since the last time he was _right here_.

Being here, in Dean's arms, feels like a million miles away from the pain and the terror and the exhaustion, physical and emotional and psychological, of the last few days, the last few weeks of his life. A million miles away from the metaphoric and literal hell he's been through.

He just buries his face into his shoulder and clings onto him as tightly as he can. He closes his eyes. And lets it all go.

*

It's late, but he doesn't really want to sleep. His dreams have been almost unbearable recently. Dean just nods understandingly, and they just curl up on the couch together, Seth snuggling into his side, his head tucked under Dean's chin, Dean's arm around his shoulders keeping him pressed flush against his body.

"Can we just watch something?" he murmurs. "Anything but wrestling, please."

Dean laughs quietly at that. Seth can feel his gentle breath on his hair. "Sure."

Dean puts on some random channel. He's not really paying attention. It's just for background noise so he can drown everything else out. Drown out his own intrusive thoughts. Just being with Dean is the best cure for that, though.

He doesn't know how long it's been, could be hours, it doesn't really matter. He thinks he could just stay like this forever. The rest of the world be damned.

Dean seems to be getting kind of restless, though. He's never been great at staying still for too long. Eventually, he just gently nudges Seth's shoulder with his own. "Sure you're okay?" he asks again, a bit more urgent this time.

Seth sighs, and moves away just a little bit, so he can look him in the face. Dean's eyes are still clouded with worry, and he hates it.

"Can we just — not talk about it? Can we just — _please_ —" Seth says, almost begging, before leaning in and pressing his lips to Dean's instead.

It's gentle at first and Dean makes a small, surprised sound before parting his lips and kissing him back for a few moments. Seth pulls away for a second just to meet his eyes again and make sure they're on the same page. Dean just gives him a slight nod and lets out a breath, and then they're kissing again, harder and more heated, both of them pulsing with a new kind of desperation. 

Seth gets to his feet, pulling Dean with him, and leads him upstairs by the hand. They pause in the doorway to come together again, lips brushing against lips, Seth's hands on his hips, Dean's fingers tangled in Seth's hair. And then Seth's pulling him backwards into the dark room, before falling back onto the bed, tugging Dean down on top of him and capturing his lips again in a breathless kiss. 

He closes his eyes. And forgets.

*

When Dean wakes up a couple hours later, Seth's still awake, eyes open, just gazing across at him.

Dean blinks at him in confusion for a few moments, before frowning, eyebrows knitting together, as he shifts his body upright a bit, regarding him intently.

"Hey, what's wrong? You okay?" he asks, eyes wide, sounding alarmed.

Seth shakes his head. "I'm fine. It's nothing. You should go back to sleep," he tells him evenly, almost like it's been rehearsed. 

But Dean's not buying it this time. He scoffs. "Come on, don't give me that shit. I'm here, okay? For whatever you need. _Always._ And I _know_ you're not fine."

"It's nothing—" he starts to protest again.

"Seth, come on," Dean tells him, more gently this time, propping himself up on one elbow to look at him head-on, his eyes bright and imploring in the dim light. "It's _me_. I'm right here."

And something about his words and the soft, earnest way he says them just makes something _break_ inside of him. 

Seth lets out a long breath like he's releasing all his darkest fears and doubts and worst thoughts into the space between them, taking down all the guards at once. It's dark and quiet and safe here with Dean. He doesn't want him to worry about him, but it's not just this week, or Dean leaving, or everything that's happened in the last few months. It's more like everything he's been trying to ignore for years and years finally catching up with him. 

"It's just — I know it's probably fucking stupid, and it's been a long time, it's been _years_. But sometimes I still look at you and I wonder...what are you even doing with me?"

"Seth —" Dean exhales sharply.

"After we got back together two years ago, I used to think that you would just disappear. That I'd wake up one day and you'd just be…_gone_. Like a dream. Like it never happened. And now every time I come back to you, it feels like such a relief. And I don't know what I'd do without that."

It's scary sometimes. Without Dean to anchor him, to bring him back to the light time and time again, he's not sure where he'd even be right now. Who he'd be.

"You still think I'm gonna disappear?" Dean asks, eyebrows raised, like that's the craziest thing he's ever heard. "Well, I'm not. You're stuck with me."

"It still feels like a dream. And somehow it's even worse than the nightmares. Because it's everything I've ever wanted, and I feel like the universe is just playing some cruel joke on me, and it's all gonna go away someday. Because I don't deserve it." He shakes his head helplessly, his throat constricting, and his eyes fall away from Dean's face.

Dean gently rests his hand on Seth's cheek, makes him look at him as he blinks away the heavy teardrops clinging to his eyelashes. "Hey, I love you, okay?" he tells him. "I've always loved you. Even when it was totally fucked up and it made me fucking crazy and it almost fucking _destroyed_ me. I still did. And I still do now. It's the only thing I'm sure about most of the time."

Dean lives in uncertainty. It's where he thrives. Seth's the opposite. He needs to be in control at all times. And if the last few years have taught him anything, it's that nothing is in his control. And it's terrifying. It can all be gone in a second. Just like that. And losing Dean's been the subject of many of his worst nightmares. But losing himself — somehow that's even worse. Because it's already happened once and somehow he's starting to feel himself sliding down that very slippery slope again.

Dean's all he has to hang on to.

"I don't know who I am without you," he admits, voice hoarse. "I feel like something's missing. Like I'm broken. And I can feel myself drifting sometimes. Back to — back to who I never want to be again. And maybe it's only a matter of time."

"You don't need to know who you are without me. Because I'm always gonna be here. Even when I'm not right there next to you. I'm a part of you, like you're a part of me. And I know who you are. That's all that matters," Dean reassures him firmly. He brushes away some moisture off of Seth's cheek with his thumb and it makes his heart ache even more.

"I thought I was — better now. That I got over it. But I guess it's still there. And now, I just feel like everyone hates me." He feels like an idiot sometimes, feels weak and pathetic, that he can't move on from this. Can't just put his past behind him and _know_ who he is now, definitively, and be okay with that. Everything's so uncertain, it's like he's constantly fumbling around in the dark with nothing to guide him but his own flawed instincts. He can't even trust himself. If feels absurd that Dean's so sure about him when he's never sure about anything.

"No one hates you," Dean says dismissively. "No one who matters anyway."

"I'm scared that you're gonna hate me too." Seth would rather die than let that happen again.

Dean lowers his hand from his face now and reaches for his own hand instead, interlacing their fingers, squeezes gently, his hand warm and firm in Seth's. "Hey, you did what you had to do. You're not _broken_. You're not a bad person. I could _never_ hate you."

"You mean that?" Seth asks hesitantly.

"The world is dark and ugly. And sometimes to survive, you have to become that too," Dean says, his face twisting into a bitter grimace involuntarily. "I know what that's like. I'm still dealing with all the bad shit I've had to do in my life. But people aren't just one thing. Who you are today isn't the same person you were yesterday. And that's what matters. We're all just trying to be better. And that's all anyone can ever do."

"I wish I could forgive you," Seth tells him honestly. "For everything bad the world made you do. Because that's not you."

Dean's the best person he's ever known. He wishes he could take all his pain and guilt, all the burdens and demons he's been carrying his whole life, for his own. Sometimes he looks at him and he can't even believe he's real, sometimes he's so beautiful it hurts. Seth loves him so much it feels like he can breathe, like his heart is gonna burst. The thought of Dean feeling even a fraction of that for him is like some kind of impossible miracle. 

Dean shakes his head. "Forgive yourself first. That's the only way it works."

And that just makes Seth love him even more. He thinks he could learn to do that. For Dean. 

"Okay," he agrees. "I'll try to, at least."

"Yeah?" Dean asks, sounding hopeful.

He nods, coming to a sudden realisation that should have been obvious all along. 

He slowly moves closer to him on the bed, touches their foreheads together gently.

"I'm sorry," Seth murmurs. "For being such a drama queen. And for putting all my shit on you."

Dean leans in to just barely brush his lips over Seth's for only a second. "It's okay," he says soothingly. "That's what I'm here for. We're in this together. All of it. Even the dirty, messy parts."

"It doesn't matter what happens," Seth says after a moment passes. "Out there. The world can get as bad and bloody as it wants. It can take whatever it wants from me. As long as I come home to you."

Dean gathers him in close to his body, wraps his arms around him as Seth pillows his head on his chest, presses a soft kiss to his hair. 

"And I'll always be here. I promise."

Seth closes his eyes. And lets himself believe it.


End file.
